The Lost Eight - Duron Crejaro (free ebook novel .TXT) 📗

need that passage out of the city tonight.”

 

“Oh?” A question followed by a raised brow as she flipped another page.

 

“An attempt was made on my life just a little while ago. Her people know I’m in the city. No doubt thanks to the spectacle you put on yesterday.” He came back with, angry at her apparent lack of concern. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” It came out as a near roar, outraged that she seemed so dismissive of him.

 

Calmly she closed the book, setting it beside her as she sat up straight. She looked him over slowly inch-by-inch, as if piercing his soul with her eyes. She then took her goblet in hand, draining a small sip of it as she pondered, “And this has nothing to do with the young knight in your company? The one that you’ve been fighting with?”

 

No response issued forth from him therefore she continued, “You are not the only one with resources you know. I looked into the young mans past after you had retired for the night. I know his family is within the city; that they are looked at as the unofficial leaders of the refugees streaming in from Kynnory. I also know that his mother is sick with the cough and will likely not survive.” It was then that she leaned forward ever so slightly, and softly laid a hand upon his cheek. A soothing yet sorrow filled smile playing lightly across her face, “But what I know more than anything Elris, is you. I know you probably either knew all of this already, or at least assumed as much and didn’t deign to inform him did you?”

 

His eyes closed, he relaxed into the gentleness of her caress with a sigh. Words rushing through his mind as he considered what to say. He knew she was right. She had always known him so well, and not how he was now. She knew the inner him; a man lost to ages of grief and loss and pain. She alone had intimate knowledge of everything. He mustered up the courage to speak, and his eyes fluttered as the words formed in his mind. This was the moment when she slapped him forcefully across his already injured cheek.

 

“And that means, I know exactly how much of an insensitive bastard you can be. Sure, you helped groom him to be the guardian. Does that make him less of a real person to you? Should he not feel? Oh, I suppose he should be controlled and calculating like you? To only think of the greater mission?” She berated him with loud fluidity.

 

Elris winced visibly at her onslaught. Each sentence another slap, though not to his face. These were directed at his pride, his ego. He cast his gaze downward, goblet clenched firmly in his hand. A chastised child is what he felt like in that moment.

 

“I remember how idealistic you used to be, merry and full of life. And don’t try your rigmarole on me, I know everything that happened. I was there.” It all came out as an angry hiss, “Don’t lose yourself. If you do, you’ll become no better then them, and if that happens will you really have completed your mission?” Gentleness returned to her voice as she chastised him.

 

“I know that you’re right Ahrianna. I’m just afraid that it can’t be helped; that it’s already much to late for my salvation.” He sighed as he said it. Deep down he felt as if he would never find deliverance from the pain of the sins he hid.

 

“I hope not, I most certainly do hope.” She leaned back into her sofa once more, the lines of age showing just a bit more freely upon her face, “As for leaving tonight, that is out of the question. This morning I received word from King Yelon. He has requested a meeting with you and your companions, and by requested obviously I mean demanded.” At this point, she drained what was left in her glass and rose.

 

“What are you doing now?” He asked curiously, his eyes never leaving her.

 

“I’m going to retrieve my veil obviously. Like I said, I know you. Your not taking your friends to see his highness, and you’ll want to go now.” Laughter echoed on her lips, “I can’t very well be seen in public with these, now can I?” A slight motion to her ears followed.

 

He smiled sadly as he rose as well, and then shook his head in agreement. Deep down, he wished she was not so in tune with him. It was impossible for him to hide his soul from her, and she was quick to take it from him, leaving it flayed open before him. She was the one person that could do this, and force him to look upon it without the possibility of denial.

 

***

“You know, Elris is what my people call an old soul.” Desoil ventured leaning back in his chair trying to break the brooding silence that had descended since Elris’ sudden departure.

 

Creolis raised his head curiously from his hands. The indecision of his current predicament was written plainly, on his face, “I’m not sure I follow your meaning Desoil.”

 

“It’s like,” He pondered a moment, trying to think of how to explain it in a foreign tongue, “Underneath he is good in his heart. He has a purpose, and that purpose pushes him to help people. He didn’t have to save my brethren and I. He didn’t have to save you. His life is about some promise that we can’t understand. I think, that maybe it helps hide some great failure in his life. Penance for some sin that he thinks he committed, or perhaps not. What do I know about such things? In my opinion though, you judge him to harshly.”

 

Creolis smiled a bit at first before falling into a fit of uproarious laughter. He laughed harder than he thought was possible in his current mood. Desoil sat there head tilted just slightly to the side, gazing at him ponderously unsure why he was laughing. Several minutes passed like this till Creolis finally settled down again. “Amazing Desoil, just amazing. While I think you may be quite right. If someone had ever told me, that I would be sitting in a bar, hearing philosophical talk from a lizard man. I would have called them a fool. Yet, Here I am doing exactly that.”

           

Unfortunately for Creolis, the irony was lost on his scaled companion. Desoil simply sat there, staring at Creolis a perplexed expression adorning his face. Sadly, their conversation was unexpectedly interrupted. A runner burst into the inn loudly, running over to the two of them. Creolis was somberly startled and went for his blade reflexively. It was unnecessary however, for the runner stopped breathlessly before them with only one simple purpose. He was there to deliver a message. Creolis’ mother was dead.

 

***

 

The palace blotted out the skyline quickly as they approached in Ahrianna’s carriage. Elris had hung his head lazily out the curtain of the door, watching the scenery. Many of the citizens they passed stopped whatever normal routine they were following to stare, not used to the sight of her carriage rolling about the city. The palace itself was quite simple in design; it had been built hundreds of years before for two simple purposes. One was to be an impenetrable stronghold; the other was to stand the test of time. It was a simple rectangular structure of thick stone walls, a wall within the walls of the outer city. Upon its ramparts sat many more of the same defensive siege weapons that dressed much of the rest of the city.

 

The guards stopped them at the gates, as was routine. A few short words from Ahrianna quickly granted them access to the interior without question. From what Elris overheard of the conversation, it appeared that she was not an infrequent visitor to the palace. The steward greeted them kindly as they disembarked from the carriage in the courtyard. A formal honor guard mutely escorted them within the palace, taking the most direct route to the throne room. Elris took it all in stride, having seen the castle many times before. Dutifully the steward announced them to King Yelon, who was in the middle of settling a dispute between two farmers. A wave of his hand and they were taken to a well-furnished stateroom to await his highness’ pleasure.

 

Shortly thereafter his royal highness Yelon deigned to join them. Elris suppressed a grimace as the aging king entered the room. He knew his type well; pampered, pompous and greedy he thought to himself as the graying man settled into an easy chair. Yelon was in his early forties, a full well groomed beard and mustache riding his face. It was obvious that he took care of himself physically. Shrewd black eyes seemed to be sizing up Elris in return.

 

“So this is the infamous Elris? Hmm.” Yelon muttered tapping his chin. “Ahrianna speaks quite highly of you sir. I however, am I must say, at a loss.” The king mused as he waved his aide to pour them all a round of drinks, “I have put my feelers out you would say, for information about you. And what do you venture my informants bring me?”

 

Elris remained quiet, hands folded neatly in his lap as he scrutinized the king. He assumed the question was rhetoric and not really in need of an answer. A glance he did spare at Ahrianna however, who sat lazily in her overly fluffed chair the hint of a smile twinkling in her yellow eyes as she sipped her wine without a word. “Nothing that’s what, whispers of whispers, rumors, not a single concrete fact. No one had even heard of you until fifty years ago, and even then, all that’s spoken of is a vagabond, a wanderer of unknown origin. Not even a last name, why is that Elris?” he pondered aloud, shooing away the attendant that tried to refill his glass.

 

“My past is of no consequence your highness. That isn’t really, why we’re here is it? You want to know if rumors of war carry any grain of truth with them.” He refused to give out information about himself. He never had and never would. On his fingers, he could count the number of people left that knew the truth.

 

“Oh, to the contrary, as I said no one had heard of you until fifty years ago. Yet, you sit before me looking a man younger then myself. I find it quite curious indeed. “ The curiosity showing as he ponderously stroked his beard.

 

He shrugged it off, giving the same excuse as always that he had aged well. “ What should really concern you is the stream of refugees and what will happen when your city comes under attack.”

 

Peering at him warily, the king frowned with unease, “This city can withstand an outright assault for months. What I don’t know however, is the enemy that we face. That is where you come in. Ahrianna tells me you are a master tactician and know this enemy intimately. It would be a privilege if you would stay and help fortify our defenses.”

 

“While I can assure you that she is quite correct, I’m afraid that will most definitely not be happening, I have other things that require my immediate attention. However, I have a trusted colleague within the city that should more then suffice for the help you need. I trained him myself. I’ll leave the details with Ahrianna when we depart. I’m sure he will make himself most invaluable to you.”

 

“I see,” He replied look over at Ahrianna curiously, “Well then. My steward will see you to the carriage and take you back to city.”

 

Elris stood swiftly, not wishing to dawdle within the confines of an old musty castle, despite how luxuriously it was furnished. The fact that Ahrianna made no move to follow gave him pause, “Are you not coming?”

 

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